


The Love That Smells Like Coffee

by Lady Mephistopheles (Neko_wa)



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Getting Together, Gift Fic, Harry is a tailor, M/M, Not Beta Read, Not Britpicked, OOC?, Pining Eggsy, Tailor Harry, Tailor!Harry, a bit?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-18 01:43:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5893315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neko_wa/pseuds/Lady%20Mephistopheles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In this universe Eggsy works at a coffee shop and Harry is a tailor. They always find their way to be together.</p><p>For the Winter 2015-16 Hartwin Secret Santa.<br/>Prompt: Coffee Shop AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Love That Smells Like Coffee

**Author's Note:**

  * For [honeydew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeydew/gifts).



> Dear honeydew!
> 
> I do hope you like this fic and you won't kill me once you know who I am.  
> I happen to love coffee shop AU just as much as you so it felt just right to write you one.
> 
> Take care, love.
> 
> xxxxx

When your stepfather is abusive and alcoholic and you have a much younger sister who can’t yet talk and walk properly, you quickly learn how to stick around good things in your life for as long as possible. You learn how to hide things. You know how to hide that you were beaten earlier that day or to hide the pain when you have shoes a size or two too small because there wasn’t enough money to buy a new pair for you. And if, somehow, you got some money, you learn how to hide that you actually have it. Life is just an act. The act of survival.

And that was, basically, Eggsy’s whole life. His father passed away before he even started primary school. People from the army said it was some nasty accident in Iraq or somewhere and that they couldn’t tell more.

“We’re very sorry, ma’am, but it’s classified,” they said.

After that, for quite a long time, there were just the two of them: Eggsy and his mum - Michelle. At the time, she had been a beautiful woman with light blue eyes and blond hair, which had been always taken care of.

From the very beginning, she gave him everything she could. She raised him to be an intelligent and caring boy and later a fully responsible man. She spent hours and hours with him whenever he had problems with his schoolwork or with one of his schoolmates. She supported him when one of the teachers noticed he could become a gymnast (and that needed some extra training). As it happened, Eggsy didn’t become a gymnast, but the training helped to keep him away from heavy drugs or being arrested.

Then, when Eggsy was in high school, Michelle met Dean. And that was when everything changed. Of course, at first he was nice and caring, but the façade dropped when Michelle asked him to move in to their little flat in South London. His aggression had been shown; often directed at Eggsy who couldn’t stand Dean beating his mother. After a month of Dean’s treatment, Eggsy vowed that one day Dean would be punished for that. That inducted a very serious change in Eggsy’s personality.

He was still just as intelligent as he was before (if not even more) but he became caring only to those he could call his family. To the rest of them, especially to those who were looking for an easy punch bag, Eggsy wasn’t a nice guy, very far from it. He fought back when attacked and wore the scars from those incidents proudly. He was a fighter, after all.

Eggsy learned how to survive on the streets, often stealing food or electronics just to sell them and have some money to buy things they needed at home. He wouldn’t have had to do that if he had a different choice. But because Dean would always waste all the money Michelle was earning on alcohol and drugs, it was either this or working on the corner of Smith Street. And Eggsy wasn’t that keen to do this. Even he had to set some boundaries in his life.

He took the liberty of being out of the flat for as long and as often as possible just because he couldn’t stand his stepfather and the stink of alcohol that covered it. When he lived with his parents, and later only with his mother, the flat was good enough for them. A small living room - yellow walls, one green sofa bed- and a separate room, which soon enough was claimed as Eggsy’s, a bathroom and a kitchenette. But when Dean moved in and Daisy was born a few years later, the flat started to feel too cluttered for Eggsy’s taste. But he was very well aware that neither he nor his mother earned enough money to find something bigger for them. Bugger it, their money was barely enough to pay bills and live on day-to-day basis. That included the money Eggsy brought with his not-so-legal earnings.

And then a miracle happened. Eggsy got a proper job at a coffee shop. Maybe it wasn’t a job of his dreams, but any kind is better that not having it at all. And money was money. They needed it, anyway. A proper job wasn’t something Eggsy would ever dump.

* * *

 

It was one of the smallest Starbucks coffee shops in London but no less busy than the others. The majority of the furniture was made of light-coloured wood, walls were half-painted, half-tiled and there were paintings hanging all over them. The sitting area, both down- and upstairs was bright, chairs greenish and comfy. People seemed to like it well enough to visit.

It had been two months since Eggsy started working there. From the very beginning he was there six times a week for at least eight, if not ten, hours. The stuff was easy to learn, his co-workers were also friendly and very quickly Eggsy was considered as one of them.

Every day Eggsy woke about 5 am, made himself a quick breakfast of whatever was in the fridge and ate it in silence. Then he went to take a shower and dress up in his usual, chav grab: a polo shirt, jeans that were a bit boggy and a hoodie. He also had his blond hair covered by a baseball cap. Just to add some more chav charm to his attire.

By 5.45 he was already at the coffee shop about to change in his work clothes - a white polo shirt and green apron with Starbucks logo; by 6 am, when the real work begun, Eggsy had already had one black coffee just to feel the mood of his work. To breathe it in properly.

First customer came just before 7 am and bought an espresso with some sandwich. Then a few more people, mostly buying take-out coffee, already late for their early shifts at work. It was easy enough to start a day, a little work-out to clear minds and find a comfortable rhythm with the rest of the people working that day. The real struggle started around 8 am. They were three more people besides Eggsy working on a morning shift and from 8 am all of them had their hands full making coffee, preparing food, taking orders from upcoming customers and writing their names on cardboard takeaway cups.

There was some time for a cigarette-and-coffee break about 10. They chatted a bit about everything and nothing at the same time. And they prepared the shop, as well as themselves, for another wave of hungry and coffee-thirsty people that came about lunch time. After that, as the shifts changed, Eggsy’s co-workers started to change, some of them finishing their work, some just about to start. But the routine they had worked out in the morning stayed all the same.

At the end of the day, when Eggsy finally came home, the only thing he could think of is a nice, long and peaceful sleep. Sometimes he brought home some groceries, sometimes nappies or food for his little sister. He kissed his mother’s cheek and went to his room. He dreamt of nothing more than a solid night of sleep.

* * *

 

Late at night, when both Daisy and Dean were already asleep, the door to his room opened slightly and reveal Michelle standing behind them and smiling fondly at his sleeping son.

 _So young and so mature already_ , she thought, closing the door to let her boy sleep. She was so happy to have him. Michelle was strong woman, but she wasn’t so sure about her own survival if it wasn’t for Eggsy.

* * *

 

After a week or two of his newly founded routine, Eggsy started to recognise regulars. The girl who always had her hair pinned in a ponytail was one of them. Her name was Roxanne although she preferred to be called Roxy. She always came in just after the morning rush to order soya milk caramel macchiato and a Belgian waffle. Then she took a morning paper and sat in the chair nearest the counter. The second was that guy who wanted to be called Merlin ( _Merlin? Whose name, the fuck, was_ Merlin _?_ Eggsy thought every time he took his order and wrote that name on his cup). He always came just after Roxy and picked a place that had a good view on her spot. _Something was definitely going on between those two_ , Eggsy thought when he watched them sneaking glances at each other.

Then something happened. Something that turned Eggsy’s life to a completely different direction.

* * *

 

One day, just before the morning rush, Eggsy noticed someone who had never been in the shop before. A middle-aged man who entered the shop and joined a short queue, just like everybody else. He had dark brown hair with just a tiny bit of silver around his temple. He was dressed in a dark grey suit that looked like, and probably was, a bespoke. His shirt was pure white, his tie dark blue with thin silver-ish stripes. Eggsy immediately felt intrigued by his presence. He clearly didn’t belong to the usual type of people visiting Starbucks.

“’Ow can I help you, sir?” Eggsy asked when the man came to give his order. Now Eggsy could properly see his face and study it for a second. The man had brown eyes, thin mouth and gaze so intense Eggsy had to close his eyes for a second. There were also some barely visible wrinkles around his eyes and mouth and on his temple. But they didn’t make him look older or uglier. If anything, they made him even more handsome than Eggsy thought at the beginning. _What the fuck, man? Handsome? Are you out of your mind?_ crossed Eggsy’s mind. It wasn’t possible he was falling for some stranger he probably would never meet again.

“Grande cappuccino, please,” was the man’s answer. And right there, in that very moment Eggsy knew that he was totally fucked. That voice made him feel things he couldn’t quite describe, couldn’t quite name, even in his own mind.

“Oi! One grande cappuccino. And what’s ya name, sir?”

“Harry.” Eggsy’s heart started to beat like he had just finished a 10 mile run. Now he had got a name. This man would no longer be like any other of them. He would be special. He would be Harry to him. And maybe, maybe, if he had a tiny bit of hope, Harry would come again and again, and again…

He had quickly written the name on the cup and prepared the drink, shortly nodding to one of other stuff members to take the spot behind the till.

Making a cappuccino for Harry took Eggsy merely a few minutes. Steam the milk, blend coffee beans, make an espresso and add it to the cup. Then add milk, mind the circular motion, keep the milk foam even. Then call the name written on the cup. He did it without thinking, every movement carefully measured, learned and rehearsed dozens of times before. The process was coded into his muscle memory. Eggsy stopped even counting how many times he had to make a cappuccino. He probably would do it in his sleep if asked.

“Your cappuccino is ready, Harry,” said Eggsy and placed a cup on the counter from where clients were supposed to pick up their drinks. His eyes followed Harry’s figure as he walked to pick up his drink and then back to his seat.

If Eggsy weren’t busy with morning rush customers that came meanwhile, he probably would have noticed that Harry’s eyes, too, was following his every move while he was drinking his coffee. And most certainly, Eggsy would have found it amusing.

When it was time for him to leave, Harry stood up and threw the cup into the nearest bin. Then he went to the tills area and put some change in the tip jar. Eggsy smiled at him and wished him a good morning. He couldn’t quite believe that Harry not only wished him a good day too but also smiled at him.

For the rest of the day he was smiling like an idiot blissfully unaware of a very similar effect he had on one man named Harry.

* * *

 

And so it begun. The new routine in Eggsy’s life that now included Harry.

To Eggsy’s surprise, Harry kept returning. Every day he entered the shop and smiled at Eggsy before joining a queue, if there was any, or ordering his usual, if there wasn’t. After just a week of Harry’s daily visits, Eggsy would start preparing his coffee as soon as he saw him coming in.

And sometimes, if the coffee shop wasn’t actually busy that day, they talked. Mostly about Eggsy’s work at the shop and, of course, the weather. Eggsy had told him bits about himself, but he was a little upset that Harry didn’t want him to know what he did for a living but somehow, for yet unknown reason, he understood the need of keeping their conversations as neutral as possible. It was clear from the way he looked that he had money, though. Eggsy was sure of that. The money was probably more than he needed on day to day basis, for Eggsy’s taste. Generally, Eggsy didn’t like posh people. He didn’t like the way they thought they were better than commons. But the truth was, their ivory towers lives had nothing to do with the real London. But somehow Harry was different and that difference acted as a magnet. Eggsy wouldn’t stop thinking about it.

With every conversation they shared, Eggsy felt like he was getting to know this man better and better, despite his aversion to speak about himself. Eggsy could easily catalogue the way he walked, the way he laughed and talked. He would know immediately when Harry entered the shop, the pattern of his steps kept deeply in his mind.

Eggsy really hoped the stupid crush he had on Harry from the very beginning would eventually go away but his mind wouldn’t have it. Eggsy’s feelings were getting worse every day. And he started dreaming about Harry. And him. Doing things Eggsy had only seen while watching porn when he was all alone at home.

* * *

 

The dreams he had were innocent at first. He and Harry sitting on the couch, drinking wine and talking. They were clearly enjoying each other’s company and the silence that eventually fell between them wasn’t tense.

But that couldn’t be enough, could it?

Eggsy were looking at Harry, noticing the light playing with his hair. When he looked in Harry’s eyes, there were a spark full of desire he was unable to hide. The desire was like a lightning shooting from his eyes.  And suddenly his mouth were pressed to Harry’s, his hand cupping Harry’s skull. It felt like fire was slowly surrounding his whole body, twice as intense in places they had a direct skin to skin contact.

Just one shift was enough to add more desire to their movements that became more firm, like they were trying to connect them together. Harry’s hand kept Eggsy pinned closely to his body, the other clearly working on taking off his polo shirt.

Eggsy wasn’t passive in their dance. His hands were focused on Harry’s shirt, its buttons and cufflinks. The need to have more direct skin-to-skin contact was overwhelming. Eggsy wasn’t patient enough to remove it completely, his mouth eagerly found that perfect spot and sucked into it, marking Harry’s skin, making Harry his.

All the sensations made him rock hard. And when Harry finally found his way into his pants and briefs, Eggsy was totally undone, coming in his pants like a bloody teenager, whimpering, “Harry…”

* * *

 

It wasn’t a big surprise that Eggsy woke up with an aching erection next morning. He quickly run to the bathroom and stored himself under the safety of running shower. Standing in the shower, Eggsy still could feel the phantom touches of the dream-Harry, he could trace the patterns he left, he could feel dream-Harry’s hand on his prick, his mouth on his. Eggsy slowly stroked himself, imagining that his hand actually belonged to someone else and re-enacting the more vivid scenes of his dream.

“Fuck… Harry!” he reached the orgasm, the hot semen spurted in waves, immediately mixing with water and disappearing. He would never ever admit to anyone, even himself, that he came moaning Harry’s name.

 _I’m so fucked_ , thought Eggsy when he dressed up and left for work. _I’m so very fucked_.

* * *

 

When Harry entered the shop later that day, Eggsy couldn’t look him in the eye without blushing. _How did it even happen? It wasn’t supposed to be like that. This fucking crush shouldn’t have come_ , Eggsy thoughts were focused on the incident in the night. _Oh no, he’s coming, he’s fucking coming_.

Eggsy tried very hard not to look strange when he prepared Harry’s coffee, but apparently he utterly failed.

“Is everything all right, Eggsy? You look very pale,” Harry’s worried voice reached Eggsy when the man came to pick up his usual.

“Yeah, I ain’t sick or nufin’, bruv,” answered Eggsy, feeling the hot and redness on his cheeks.

“Just don’t overwork yourself, please,” having said that, Harry returned to his seat and slowly drank his coffee.

* * *

 

It took weeks to change the situation between them. Meanwhile their meetings were mostly the same. When Harry was in, Eggsy was looking at him and desperately wanted not to be caught at it. And whenever Eggsy wasn’t looking at Harry, Harry was following his movements with his eyes.

Eggsy’s co-workers were watching them and laughing at them. But finally they snapped.

“Eggsy! Be a man and bloody ask that guy out!”

As it happened few days later, Eggsy didn’t have to ask Harry out, but only because he was asked out himself. Well, sort of.

* * *

 

It was Friday about two weeks after that conversation Eggsy had with his colleagues. Harry, as usual, walked into the coffee shop, paid for his order that didn’t have to be spoken for a very long time. Eggsy memorised it somewhere between one talk and the other and every day he started preparing it as soon as the sound of Harry’s footsteps reached his eyes.

Unfortunately the shop was too busy for them to have a little chat that day and the only thing Eggsy could do was gazing in Harry’s direction whenever he could and stare at him drinking his coffee and reading a copy of The Times.

Harry left, but it wasn’t until few hours later that Eggsy, who was sweeping tables, spotted something unusual under the table Harry usually took. When he came closer he realised it was a wallet. He picked it up and opened to look for any type of document which would tell him something more about its owner. It wasn’t until he saw the business card when his heart started beating faster. It said:

_Harry Hart_

_Kingsman Tailors_

_11 Savile Row_

_London W1S 3PN_

_Got ya name_ , thought Eggsy when he put the wallet into his pocket. _Guess a trip to Kingsman Tailors is in order_. And if anyone saw him smiling every time he thought about seeing Harry later that day, Eggsy would deny it had something to do with “his client” as they would call Harry.

Eggsy finished his work, changed into his normal clothes and left the shop. He made sure that he actually had Harry’s wallet. Googling the address took merely a second and when Eggsy realised the tailor shop was really close to his workplace, he decided on having a walk rather than taking a tube.

Within a second Eggsy stood in front of the Kingsman Tailors suddenly feeling nervous. _What if he isn’t there?_ complained one voice in his head. The other immediately replied: _You idiot, you’ll just leave that fucking wallet with whoever is inside. He works here, he’ll find it!_

Eggsy took a deep, steady breath and entered the shop. Immediately, he felt out of place in his chav grab and a baseball cap on his head.

The shop looked very fancy. It wasn’t small but it wasn’t big also; walls were half lined with wooden panelling, half upholstered with deep green fabric. There were also some pictures hanging on the walls. In the middle of the shop there were two wooden tables full of bales of something that looked like various fabrics, some cabinets full of various things that were probably very important for being a tailor. To complete the interior there was a leather couch and a couple of armchairs.

There was a man behind the counter who, at first, didn’t seem to notice that someone entered the shop, but when Eggsy stopped in the middle of the room he heard that man speaking:

“How can I help you, sir?”

“Ehm-” Eggsy suddenly became nervous. “I’m looking for ‘Arry Hart.”

“Please, sit down, sir,” said the man. “He should be here in a moment.”

A few minutes later, Harry came from downstairs. When he saw Eggsy, he stopped as if he couldn’t believe in what he saw.

“Eggsy?” Harry’s voice revealed that he was confused. “What are you doing here?”

“‘Arry!” Eggsy stood up as soon as he heard Harry speaking. Suddenly, he was even more nervous than before. “You left your wallet at the shop. I thought I’d return it.” Eggsy grabbed said wallet out of his pocket to prove himself. “I ain’t following you, I swear!”

“That is very kind of you, my dear boy,” said Harry, taking his wallet from Eggsy’s hand. His fingers brushed Eggsy’s and something sparked between their hands.

They stood for a few moments in silence, the air between them full of a strange electricity.

“’Arry…”

“Eggsy,” Harry interrupted. “Would you like to have dinner with me?”

Eggsy was speechless for a second before he realised that Harry had asked him a question.

“Yeah, sure,” he said.

* * *

 

Their dinner was a lovely affair. Harry took Eggsy to a small, Italian restaurant. And they talked a lot. About various things. Somehow, after Eggsy had seen his workplace, Harry opened up about his work. If fact, Harry wasn’t only a Kingsman tailor, he owned the shop. And like every place, Kingsman also had regulars. Harry told Eggsy about Chester King, one of the eldest clients.

 

After the dinner, Harry insisted on driving Eggsy home. When they arrived, Harry asked the driver to wait for him and he got out with Eggsy to walk him to the door.

“Thank you, my dear boy,” said Harry when they reached their destination. “I’ve had a lovely time.”

“Thanks, bruv,” said Eggsy. He was about to enter his flat when something struck him. He turned around, just enough to face Harry once more. He stood on his tiptoes and connected his lips with Harry’s.

It was a very delicate kiss, almost like a peck on Harry’s lips, but it started a very big flame inside Eggsy’s body. Just this brief contact made him want everything with that man in front of him. This very second. For a moment Eggsy felt Harry’s hand caressing his face and returning the kiss before his eyes snapped open and he realised what he had done. He immediately broke the kiss and stepped out of their embrace.

“Err… I gota go, bruv,” said Eggsy. His voice sounded like he had already started regretting what happened. Without another glance, he entered the flat, closed the door and locked them.

For several long minutes Harry Hart stood outside the flat, looking like he was stunned. His fingers lightly traced his lips that unconsciously turned into a soft smile.

* * *

 

The next day Eggsy’s day started normally. When he reached the shop, he suddenly started to feel a bit anxious, remembering what had happened last night. _What if Harry doesn’t come? If he comes?_ Eggsy thought while he was changing into his work clothes.

Something was off that day. Firstly, Harry didn’t come in the morning. Eggsy was sort of expecting him to at least show up for take-away cup. When Harry’s usual time passed and then few more hours, then few more, Eggsy understood that it was the end of their acquaintance. Then, when Eggsy started to accept that, his world turned upside down because Harry Fucking Hart entered Starbucks coffee shop. Eggsy nearly dropped coffee he was doing at the time, he wasn’t prepared for this, not after accepting he wouldn’t come.

“Eggsy, may I speak to you?” Harry asked, his hand nervously clutching the bouquet.

“Sure thing, bruv,” Eggsy said, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Just let me finish with this.”

“I will wait.”

Eggsy finished the coffee, untied his apron, hanged it and started walking towards Harry. He didn’t know what to expect, he couldn’t understand why Harry would bring flowers to the shop. He couldn’t read him, it made him feel uneasy about them and their situation. _Fuck this, you only live once_ , Eggsy thought and sat down in front of Harry.

“Listen, bruv,” Eggsy started. Then stopped and took a deep breath. “If you want to end…”

“End? No, my dear boy,” Harry interrupted him, grabbing Eggsy’s hand with his free one. “I don’t want to end this… us. We haven’t even had a chance to start. And I would like to do so very much.”

“Really?” Eggsy couldn’t believe what he had just heard. He stood up. Harry did too almost instantly.

“Are you okay, my dear boy?” Harry’s voice was full of worry. And suddenly, Eggsy couldn’t stand it. He took two steps, stood right in front of Harry and kissed him. It didn’t take long for Harry to kiss him back, just like his life was depending on that simple gesture. The kiss was slow, full of feelings they were yet to name and only when they broke off to catch their breaths, they realised that people in the shop were cheering for them. Eggsy looked around and caught a glimpse of his manager who mouthed _Go with him_ and turned back to Harry.

“Wait a mo, I’ll get my things,” he said and ran to the back of the shop. He changed into his normal clothes and came back within minute.

They went out of the shop together, hand in hand, towards their new future.

* * *

 

Few weeks later, Harry passed the most important test for Eggsy. He met Michelle and Daisy. Michelle was wary at first, but quickly warmed up when she got over the age difference. And Daisy? Daisy had Harry wrapped around her finger within 5 minutes of their meeting.

 Two months into their relationship, Harry asked Eggsy to move in with him. Eggsy, of course, agreed happily and moved in right away. From then on, they were the happiest people on the world. Right, they had good and bad moments, just like every couple would, but things always worked up for them in the end.

 _Couldn’t have been better_ , thought Eggsy every day when he kissed Harry good morning and every time they kissed good night. Just like at the very beginning, every time Eggsy smelled coffee, his thought drifted to Harry, to their life, their home. It felt just right.

**Author's Note:**

> If you notice any mistakes, let me know. I will correct them as soon as possible.  
> Also, I have never been to this particular Starbucks so I don't know if it's small or big, the interior was inspired by photos I found on Google maps.
> 
> Follow me on [tumblr](http://lady-mephistopheles.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/LadyMephisto).  
> Thank you for reading this!


End file.
